


i’ll be waiting for you in san junipero (but only if you want me to)

by prettyboy-parker (orphan_account)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Black Mirror Episode: s03e04 San Junipero, Cancer, Character Death, Hand Jobs, M/M, Public Blow Jobs, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:14:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23503675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/prettyboy-parker
Summary: “You love me?” He asks, voice hoarse.“I’d be crazy if I didn’t,” Tony laughs, stroking the knobby bone of Peter’s wrist. “I’d be so fucking bonkers.”***In a lame attempt to avoid a past lover, a strange man comes up to Peter in a bar and swings his arm around his shoulders.He doesn’t let go.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 72





	1. introduction

**Author's Note:**

> holy fuck. i can’t believe i actually finished this!! it’s been a sort of passion project for me recently. this is all based around the episode “san junipero” from the show black mirror. you don’t need to have seen the episode to read this fic! if you haven’t seen it, read chapter one’s quick introduction. if you have seen it, continue to the fic!

San Junipero is the fourth episode of the third season of Netflix’s Black Mirror. To read this fic, here’s the information you need to know:

In the near future, technology is created that allows the dead to live in an afterlife, called San Junipero. When the elderly are admitted to retirement homes, they are able to give the technology a ‘test drive’. Every Saturday, starting in the late afternoon, they are able to preview the city of San Junipero until midnight. Then, once they near their death, they are able to choose to live on in San Junipero or skip the technology completely.

Please enjoy. 


	2. i’ll be waiting for you in san junipero (but only if you want me to)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the fic

_1987_

Pink and purple light floods over the hot mass of bodies in the center of the club, shouts of laughter filling the stuffy air. Bananarama’s one-hit-wonder “Venus” blares from the speakers, the bass giving the club its own heartbeat. The flashing  _Tucker’s_ sign makes Peter flinch as he slips inside. Someone blows cigarette smoke into the open, which makes him cough and wave the smoke away.

“S’cuse me,” He squeaks, pushing past a preppy-dressed man talking lowly to a bubble gum popping woman. They both look up at him in annoyance before turning back to their conversation. Peter grimaces and wipes his sweaty hands on his jeans. He weaves his way around the people mulling about and slips over to the bar.

The bartender doesn’t see him at first, too busy fixing a drink for another patron. But the blonde eventually notices him, and Peter gives him a shy smile.

“What can I get for you?” The man asks, his smile tight. There’s a tired lilt to his voice, and Peter nearly feels bad for him. 

“Um, just a Coke, please,” He squeaks, nervously resting his hands on the bar counter. He yanks them away right after, settling on hanging them by his sides.

“Just a Coke? Not like, a rum and Coke?” The bartender asks; his face twisted sourly.

“Just a Coke,” Peter repeats with a nod. The man grimaces and pulls out a chilled glass of Coca Cola.

“Thanks,” Peter says, but the bartender is already out of earshot.

“Fuck off, dude! I sucked you off last week!”

Peter’s heart jumps and he spins around, pressing his back against the wood of the bar.

A man is heading towards him, and he’s moving very quickly.

He has a disgruntled look on his face, and his big brown eyes are narrowed in annoyance. Peter feels the moisture leaves his mouth when he sees the man’s sharp collarbones peeking out from the collar of his printed shirt. The man stops short next to Peter and slings his arm around the shorter’s shoulders.

“Pretend like you know me,” The man murmurs into Peter’s ear, sending shivers down the boy’s spine.

“Tony! What are we, kindergarteners? Talk to me!” 

Another man, a little younger (yet taller) than Tony, emerges from the crowd of people.

“Leave me alone, Stephen. I don’t do seconds.” Tony grumbles, rolling his eyes. His arm is heavy on Peter’s shoulders, and the brunette is woozy at the feeling of Tony’s side pressed against his.

“You don’t do seconds?” Stephen scoffs, stopping in front of the two. “I think Maya would beg to differ.”

Peter can feel Tony tense up against him.

“Go away, Stephen. I’m trying to have a conversation,” The man spits, tucking his free hand in the back pocket of his jeans. Stephen looks at Peter warily.

“Oh, really? Or are you just looking for another fuck?”

Peter can feel heat creep onto his cheeks.Tony throws his head back and laughs.

“Fuck off. He’s an old friend from college,” Tony tells Stephen, giving Peter a pat on the bicep. Stephen looks like he doesn’t believe a word that came out of Tony’s mouth, but he still walks away with a huff.

“Jesus, a guy can never get a break around here,” Tony mutters angrily, slipping his arm off of Peter’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry he was being an ass,” Peter says softly, anxiously rocking on his heels. Tony shrugs.

“I can’t blame him. Who wouldn’t want piece of this?” Tony jokes, a goofy smile on his face as he gestures to himself. Peter chuckles and shakes his head.

“Anyways, I’m Tony,” The other man says, sticking out his hand. Peter takes it and gives it a loose shake. “And you are?”

“Peter,” The brunette replies before dropping Tony’s hand.

“ _Peter_ ,” He repeats, and Peter melts at the sound of his name coming from those plump lips. Tony’s eyes flick down to his glass.

“Rum and Coke?” He asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“Just a Coke,” Peter says bashfully. Tony gives him a funny look, but still smiles.

“You’re cute,” He purrs, voice quiet under the music of the club. Peter’s stomach churns and he lets out a breathy laugh. The smaller man puts his drink on the counter. “Let’s dance. You wanna dance?”

“Oh, I don’t-“

Tony grabs his hand before he can finish and pulls him into the throng of dancing people. Peter yelps in surprise, but allows the man to whisk him away. Tony’s hand is warm and a little bit sweaty, yet Peter doesn’t mind.

“I love this song!” Tony shouts when “She Blinded Me With Science” by Thomas Dolby plays from the speakers. The crowd cheers and Tony grabs Peter’s other hand.

_It's poetry in motion_

_She turned her tender eyes to me_

_As deep as any ocean_

_As sweet as any harmony_

Tony sways his hips back and forth in time with the music. Peter laughs softly, standing stiffly.

“Come on, loosen up!” Tony tells him, grinning wildly. Peter tries to sway his body like Tony, but he just feels stupid. The other man doesn’t seem to notice, because he moves closer to Peter.

_Mm, but she blinded me with science_

_She blinded me with science_

_And failed me in biology, yeh yeh_

“There you go! Don’t ever say you can’t dance,” Tony yells over the music, running his tongue over his bottom lip. A giggle bubbles from Peter’s throat.

_Now uh, huh huh_

_When I'm dancing close to her_

_Blinding me with science, science_

_Science_

“I think we should go get some air,” Peter calls out, swinging him and Tony’s hands side to side. “It’s really hot!”

Tony finds that funny and laughs. As the song comes to an end, the two weave their way back through the crowd. Tony steers him past the arcade machines and to the peeling back door.

“Fuck, it’s like an oven in there,” Tony groans once they get outside, the door shutting behind him with a heavy thud. Peter watches him slip a cigarette and a lighter out of his back pocket.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect it to be so hot in there,” Peter says, leaning against the brick wall of the club. Tony places the end of the cigarette in his mouth.

“Expect?” Tony asks, giving him a funny look. “Is this your first time here?”

Peter avoids Tony’s gaze and looks at his Vans.

“Yup,” He murmurs, awkwardly fiddling with his belt. Tony reaches out and encases Peter’s wrist with his fingers. The brunette holds his breath as Tony runs his thumb over his wrist.

“How about we head to mine?”

Peter’s heart stops in his chest.

And then, he yanks his hand away.

“No!” He exclaims, but immediately regrets it when he sees the look on Tony’s face. “I mean, I would, but-“

“Hey, don’t sweat it.” Tony says coolly. He flicks the lighter and brings the flame to his lips. “It’s almost midnight, anyways.”

***

_One Week Later- 1987_

Dark hair. Dark eyes. Bright smile. Honey-smooth voice.

Peter scans the crowd for Tony, eyes flicking over the sweaty bodies. He doesn’t see him right away, and he can’t help but feel a little disappointed. Tony has been on Peter’s mind all week since their first meeting. Over much thinking (and internal bickering), he’s decided to find Tony again.

He hasn’t fucked anyone since his 20’s, okay?

San Junipero is advertised as a getaway, a place where you can do whatever you want-without repercussion. He would have waited to get to know Tony more before even  _kissing_ him, but Peter quickly learned that’s not how they roll here.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he shuffles around the edge of the dance floor. Half of him wants to run and find somewhere on the beach to sit and mull, but the other half yearns to find Tony.

And there he is.

Peter stops in his tracks, right next to the cluster of arcade games. He spots Tony nestled on one of the pink vinyl seats, looking bored as a girl with big hair talks to him. He looks good, his hair slicked back and a cherry red letterman jacket wrapped around his broad frame. 

Tony looks up.

Peter’s breath catches in his throat when their eyes meet. Tony’s doe eyes go wide, and Peter gives him a shy wave. The older man says something to the girl next to him before getting up and weaving his way around the crowd.

There’s a small smirk on Tony’s face when he approaches Peter.

“I’ve changed my mind,” The smaller man says. “I-I want you.”

Tony grins like the cat that got the cream.

“I knew it,” He murmurs, stepping closer to Peter. He reaches out and gently brushes Peter’s bicep with his hand. “Everyone gets the first day jitters.”

Peter laughs, but his heart pounds against his rib cage. Are there the second day jitters, too? Tony shuffles a little closer and wraps one arm around his waist.

“I’ve got a little place next to the ocean. You ready to go?”

_Poor old Johnny Ray_

_Sounded sad upon the radio_

_But he moved a million hearts in mono_

_Our mothers cried, sang along, who'd blame them_

Peter smiles as the wind tousles his curls, glancing over to Tony. The older man winks and revs the engine of his Mustang. ( _“1983 Ford Mustang Convertible, baby. The best out there,”_ Tony had said, but Peter was too lost in his eyes.)

“Almost there, sugar!” Tony shouts over the wind, taking a particularly sharp left. Peter shrieks as they lean to the side.

_You're grown (so grown up)_

_So grown (so grown up)_

_Now I must say more than ever_

_(Come on, Eileen)_

_Too ra loo ra too ra loo rye aye_

_And we can sing just like our fathers_

“Holy shit, be careful!” Peter yells, but there’s no fear in his voice. Tony laughs, loud and bright and  _warm_ . He reaches to the side and tucks his hand over Peter’s thigh.

_Come on, Eileen, oh I swear (what he means)_

_At this moment, you mean everything_

_You in that dress, my thoughts I confess_

_Verge on dirty_

_Ah, come on, Eileen_

Tony eventually slows his speed when they reach the beach, passing the clumps of twirling sea grass and sand dunes.

His house is very cute.

It reminds him of the old beach house they would rent on the shores of Long Island, a desperate attempt at a picture perfect vacation while his mother was dying. The house is a watered down blue color, weathered from the sun and the sand. There’s no decorations, no plastic flamingoes, no welcome mat. But it’s cute.

“Home sweet home,”Tony sings once he shuts off the car. Peter laughs softly before unbuckling his seatbelt. 

“Oh, you might want to take your shoes off now. The sand can be a bitch.”

“True,” Peter replies, undoing the laces of his sneakers with shaky hands. Tony does the same, then swings open the car door. Peter tucks his socks into his shoes and climbs out the car. The sand feels nice between his toes; soft and smooth.

Peter follows Tony into his house, glancing over his shoulder when they clamber up the porch steps. The city glows behind them, tiny lights dotting the landscape.

“Slow poke!” Tony laughs, snapping Peter out of his thoughts. He wraps his hands around the younger’s waist and pulls him inside. Tony kicks the door closed and Peter drops his shoes on the ground. With a flash of bravery, he rests his hands on Tony’s chest. The older man lets out a breath, and their lips are so close that the air hits Peter’s. 

“I wanna kiss you,” Peter blurts, leaning closer into Tony’s touch. The corner of the man‘s mouth twitches.

“Then kiss me.”

Peter presses his lips to Tony’s. He does it a little too forcefully, too enthusiastically, because Tony stumbles backwards. He regains his footing though, and kisses back happily. Peter squeaks when Tony squeezes his ass.

“ _Tony_ ,” Peter breathes as Tony moves his wet lips down his cheek and to his jaw.

“I’ve been thinking about getting my hands on you,” Tony grumbles against his warm skin. The feeling of his teeth makes Peter shudder. “When I saw you at the bar, I needed to get you in my bed.”

Peter lets out a shaky moan at Tony’s words, hips stuttering when he sucks a bruise onto his neck. Peter can feel the hard outline of Tony’s dick against his thigh.

“S-Speaking of that bed,” The smaller man stutters, tangling his fingers in Tony’s hair.

“Right over there,” He replies, gently grabbing Peter’s hands and removing them from his hair. The brunette giggles as Tony guides him to the bed, the bed that’s, for some reason, pushed against the living room windows. When Tony sees the look on his face, he smirks.

“I like everything in one room, baby. Except the toilet.” He explains while he gets Peter onto the bed. Peter laughs and kisses Tony again, letting the older man push him so he’s lying down. The pressure of his crotch against Peter’s makes the younger man moan against Tony’s lips. He tries to grind upwards, searching for relief against his aching cock. 

“Get this fuckin-this shirt off,” Tony growls, yanking at the hem of Peter’s shirt and pulling it over his head. Tony sits upwards, shucks off his jacket, and takes off his own shirt, throwing it onto the ground. Peter’s mouth goes dry as he eyes the trail of dark hair that leads to Tony’s... _yeah_ . Peter reaches out and touches his navel.

“Ngh, fuck,” Tony groans, hurriedly unbuckling his belt and pulling it from the loops. Peter’s chest heaves as he undoes his belt. Tony rolls to the side, unfortunately off of Peter, and starts to take off his shoes. Peter shimmies out of his jeans awkwardly, whimpering when his hand brushes over his rock hard cock. 

“Pete,” Tony breathes after he takes off his jeans.

Peter pulls Tony into a kiss by his neck. The older man groans and cups both of Peter’s cheeks. The brunette reaches down and gently squeezes Tony’s dick through his cotton boxers. 

“Shit!” He hisses, and in a sudden move he pulls Peter’s boxers down his pale thighs. Peter sighs when his cock is finally freed, bobbing in the cool air. It’s still the same smaller-than-average size as real life, unfortunately. But Tony’s cock is big, thick and veined and leaking precum.

“Look at you,” Tony coos, wrapping his tan fingers around Peter’s length. He lets out a high pitched whine at the friction and slick sound. “All this for me?”

“ _Y-yes_ ,” Peter pants, tangling his fingers in the sheets. Tony shuffles closer so his own cock is lined up against Peter’s. The sight is absolutely filthy.

“I hate to admit it, but I’m really close,” Tony groans, beginning to stroke both himself and Peter at the same time. Peter’s hips jerk upwards, making his cock rub against Tony’s

“ Tony ,”Peter cries, falling forward and mouthing at the older man’s neck. For the next couple of moments, the sounds of grunts and moans fill the room. The up and down motion of Tony’s hand makes Peter’s gut curl, and before he knows it-

“Fuck!” Peter shouts as his balls tighten and he spills his release over Tony’s hand. Tony breathing picks up as he nears his climax, using Peter’s cum to slick his own cock. With a loud moan, Tony reaches his orgasm.

“Baby,” Tony mumbles once he catches his breath. Peter lets out a breathy laugh as Tony flops down on the bed. The younger man does the same, lying so close that their noses almost touch. Tony smiles, and the way his gorgeous eyes crinkle make Peter feel all warm and fuzzy.

“That was- s’really good,” He slurs, reaching out and barely grazing Tony’s cheek with his fingertips. His skin is warm, flushed a sweet pink.

“Damn right it was,” Tony laughs, wrapping his clean arm around Peter’s waist. “Do y’know what time it is? I cant remember when we left the bar.”

“It’s almost-“

Peter jolts upwards, the gentle beep of the monitor filling his ears.

“Midnight.”

***  
_Another Week Later- 1990_

_Strike a pose_

_Strike a pose_

_(Vogue, vogue, vogue)_

_(Vogue, vogue, vogue)_

Peter awkwardly tucks his hands into the pockets of his overalls, breathing heavy from his trek around the club. He’s looked everywhere and he just can’t find Tony. He knows he’s being clingy and weird, but Tony has been constantly on his mind.

_Look around, everywhere you turn is heartache_

_It's everywhere that you go (look around)_

_You try everything you can to escape_

_The pain of life that you know (life that you know)_

Peter spots the man from a few weeks ago standing by the bar. What was him name again? Stefan? Steven? 

Stephen!

Peter, although a little too enthusiastically, rushes down the small set of steps to the tall man. He doesn’t look up right away, of course, but he does when Peter calls out his name.

“Do I know you?” Stephen grunts, narrowing his ice blue eyes. Peter smiles warily. 

“Have you seen Tony?” He asks, chewing on his bottom lip. 

“No,” Stephen replies, a sour look on his face. He takes a sip of his beer. “You too, huh?”

Peter feels his stomach lurch. 

“I-I don’t know. I guess I’ll go now,” He mutters. Stephen raises his hand.

“Try looking somewhere else. ‘02. Mid 70’s. Good luck.”

_Come on, vogue_

_Let your body move to the music (move to the music)_

_Hey, hey, hey_

_Come on, vogue_

_Let your body go with the flow (go with the flow)_

_You know you can do it_

***

_One Week Later- 1978_

“Holy smokes, you are so good at this!”

Peter smiles and jiggles the joystick of the Space Invaders machine. The girl, Betty, is leaning over his shoulder, watching the screen intently. He’s nearly at 2000 points, but with one rogue alien his last life is taken. He throws his head back and groans. Betty shrieks and grabs Peter’s shoulders.

“Come on Pete, let’s go dance! ABBA is my absolute favorite,” She giggles, spinning Peter around. The brunette opens his mouth to respond, but he spots who’s standing at the Asteroids machine.

“Um, I actually-I’m sorry Betty. There’s someone I need to talk to. I’ll see you around?” Peter stutters, and the blonde’s face falls flat.

“Okay. Maybe 2005?”

Peter smiles and Betty rushes off.

“Tony. I know you know I’m here,” Peter says once it’s just him and Tony in the arcade corner. The game makes a sad beep as he slams on the machine. Peter flinches. “Talk to me. Why are you avoiding me?”

Tony turns around, arms crossed. 

“Calm down.” He grunts, avoiding Peter’s gaze.

“Tony! Why?” Peter pleads, taking a step closer to the other man. Tony awkwardly shifts on his feet.

“I need change,” He explains; his face stony.

“Change my ass!” Peter nearly shouts. He doesn’t want to draw attention to himself, but it’s hard not to. “You’re hiding from me.”

“I don’t owe you  _shit_ , Peter.” Tony growls, finally snapping. Peter flinches in surprise. His tone makes the younger’s throat tighten.

“Now leave me alone,” Tony grumbles, running off into the crowd. Peter’s stomach drops to his toes, but he rushes after Tony. He keeps the man’s dark hair in view as he pushes past patron after patron, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he reaches the front door.

“Tony!” Peter cries once both of them are outside. He runs forward and grabs Tony’s thin wrist.

“Peter, stop it,” Tony says softly, resting his hand on Peter’s bicep. “I’m not here to fall in love.”

“Then what are you here for?” Peter asks, placing his free hand on Tony’s chest. “Why are you trying to fuckin’ fight this?”

“Because I’m not staying here,” Tony explains. “Once I’m gone, I’m gone. Screw this place. I like you, Peter. I really do. But this place-“ He looks around at the buildings on the street. “It’s not fair. Morgan-my daughter, my babygirl-she didn’t get this. It was cancer. She was 30. And my husband didn’t want this either. He was the light of my life, you know. A big blonde oaf. It wasn’t fair to take something Morgan didn’t have. So why should I?”

Peter’s breath catches in his throat.

“Oh Tony,” He mutters, and without thinking, he presses his lips to the other’s. Tony kisses back immediately, slipping his hand onto Peter’s cheek. The smaller man leans into Tony’s touch. Suddenly, a soft beep emerges from between them.

“Fuck,” Tony utters once they pull apart, lips slick and shiny with spit. “There’s 3 minutes until midnight.”

Peter doesn’t respond.

“Okay, um, next week. Meet me at the Quagmire,” Tony says hurriedly. Peter looks at him, confused. “It’s a club. Well, sort of. Just ask around and you’ll find it. How about 1987?”

“Yeah,” Peter whispers, “See you then.”

***

_Next Week- 1987_

In the middle of nowhere sits the broken down building of the Quagmire. The rows of motorcycles and smoke billowing out of the club tell him all he needs to know about the place. He quickly changes his outfit (one of the technological perks of San Junipero) to a more fitting look: a loose red t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and good old-fashioned Doc Martens. He feels awkward; he’s dressed like the guys he used to jack off to. 

His boots crunch on the gravel as he walks up to the front doors, which are swung wide open. He can hear the faint thump of the music from above, as the only thing on the first floor is a staircase and a man slumped in the corner. Peter grimaces, and without touching the handrail, he walks up the stairs. The music gets louder and the smell of weed gets more potent. There’s a few people mulling around in the hallway leading to the main room. A guy with black-rimmed eyes blows smoke up into the air and a girl with a fucking  _snake_ around her shoulders winks at him. He gives her a weak smile and steps into the crowd.

There’s cages hanging from the ceiling with pierced girls in them and everyone’s in leather. It feels like the place Harry would always try to get him to go to back when they were in college.

He never went.

Instead of dancing, the people around him are grinding and kissing each other. It’s awkward and Peter’s too caught up in the mess of people to focus on where’s he going; he runs into a very hard body.

“Woah there, sugar,” The man purrs as Peter stumbles backward. He opens his mouth to respond, but no sound comes out. The man is gorgeous, with a perfect smile, sharp jaw, scruffy beard, and loose strands of long brown hair that frame his pretty face.

“I’m so sorry,” Peter stammers, feeling trapped in the low light of the club. The man laughs and claps him on the shoulder.

“Don’t sweat it, kid,” He grumbles, taking a swig of his beer.

“Pete!”

Peter jumps and whips his head around, catching an eyeful of a grinning Tony. His steps are wobbly as he walks over to Peter, slinging his arm around the younger’s shoulders. Peter can smell alcohol on Tony’s breath, hinting that he’s turned his pain meter down, leaving him vulnerable to the effects of liquor.

“Is this your new boy toy, Stark?” The man opposite them drawls. His comment makes Peter flush.

“Shut the hell up, Barnes,” Tony laughs, pulling Peter closer to his side. “I take it you met my  _friend_ ?”

Peter won’t lie, the word stings. But no one seems to notice, because Barnes just scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“I did not, mind you,” He says before turning to Peter. “I’m Bucky. What’s your name, doll?”

Peter preens at the pet name.

“Peter,” He replies, his hand gently brushing against Tony’s jeans. He feels good like this, he feels like they look good  together . “It’s my first time here-fifth time in San Junipero.”

Bucky nods with a soft ‘ah.’

“I see you’ve already gotten caught up with Anthony. Can’t blame you, honestly. He’s a real catch,” He drawls, tucking his free hand into his back pocket. “Well, I’ll leave you alone. My husband’s lookin’ for me.”

Bucky disappears into he crowd.

“Finally, some alone time,” Tony groans, nudging Peter’s chestnut curls with his nose.

“Alone? You think this is alone?” Peter scoffs, pressing his cheek to Tony’s leather jacket. “We’re packed between people right now.”

Tony laughs loud enough that Peter can hear him clearly over the pounding rock music.

“Let’s dance, baby!” He shouts, ignoring the question. Peter giggles and lets Tony shove people out of the way to get on the dance floor. He wraps his arms around Peter’s torso and tucks his face in the crook of the younger’s neck. Peter’s breath hitches as Tony nips at the skin of his neck.

“You’re a good dancer,” He slurs, jerking his hips against Peter’s ass. The brunette’s face is on fire as Tony sways him back and forth to the beat of the music. Peter can feel himself start to chub up in his jeans, much to his embarrassment.

“ _Tony_ ,” He groans, but he doesn’t think he can be heard over the music. Tony continues to rock his crotch against his backside, muttering sweet nothings into his ear. Peter can feel how hard the older man is, and his blood boils at the fact that  he did this to him. They stay there for a while, swaying and grinding on each other. The rest of the room becomes a blur as they stand there, intertwined.

“Come to the bathroom with me,” Tony mutters in Peter’s ear; his fingers grazing over the heated skin of the younger’s stomach. “I want your mouth on me.”

A pathetic whine escapes Peter’s lips, and he nods. Tony swerves him around the metalhead party-goers and into a poorly-lit hallway. A couple is making out against the peeling wall,and Peter keeps his eyes down as Tony leads him into the men’s bathroom.

“Holy shit, I’m so fuckin’ hard,” Tony grunts, fumbling with the handle of one of the stalls. The door swings open with a clang, and Tony ushers him into the stall. Without being prompted, Peter falls to his knees and squeezes Tony’s bulge through his jeans. The older man’s eyes flutter shut and he sighs softly. With nimble fingers, Peter undoes the metal of his belt and tucks his cock out of his jeans. It’s rock hard already, flushed red and leaking. Tentatively, Peter flicks his tongue over the head of his cock. Tony groans, tangling his fingers through Peter’s curls. The younger boy slips his lips around the head, using his tongue to massage under it. A litany of curses falls from Tony’s lips as Peter takes more of his member into his mouth. The stretch makes Peter’s dick jump in his jeans. A spurt of precum leaks onto his tongue, the salty taste making his stomach churn. Peter reaches up and cups Tony’s heavy balls in the palm of his hand. He shouts and yanks Peter’s hair, giving the boy more encouragement to keep sucking. He can’t go too deep, he hasn’t done this much before, but he makes up his lack of experience with enthusiasm. As he lavishes Tony’s cock, the sound of the bathroom door opening makes him freeze.

Tony bites his fist as he cums in Peter’s mouth.

Peter swallows all his release as quietly as he can, tucking the man’s cock back into his boxers and pulling up his jeans. Tony’s chest heaves as he comes down from the high of his climax. Peter’s still unbelievably hard, and he stands up on shaky legs. Tony pulls the boy into his arms and slips his thigh between his legs. Peter moans into Tony’s shirt at the pressure against his crotch. 

“Hump my thigh,” Tony growls into Peter’s ear as the other patron flushes the toilet. Peter whines and curls the older man’s shirt in his hands. He does as he’s told, desperately grinding down onto Tony. With his soft words of encouragement, Peter cums in his pants.

“ Tony ,” The brunette cries once the other man leaves the restroom, resting his head against Tony’s chest. 

He strokes Peter’s curls and presses a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m so fuckin’ stupid,” Tony grumbles. “You’re gorgeous. And right here in front of me.”

Peter looks up at Tony, confused.

“You’re babbling, handsome,” He mutters, reaching upwards and tracing Tony’s lips with his finger.

“Let me see you,” Tony grumbles, resting his hands on Peter’s hips. “Let me see you in person.”

Peter’s heart skips a beat.

“You could live across the country,” He says softly, running his thumb over the bit of stubble that graces Tony’s cheek.

“But I don’t. You’re Peter Parker and you live in Arcata. I’m in San Fransisco. It’s only a four hour drive.”

“That should be creepy but it’s kind of hot,” Peter mumbles, grazing his lips against Tony’s. “But why?”

“Just let me see you,” Tony pleads, resting his forehead against Peter’s. “Everything-it’s tearing me up inside.”

Peter smiles and bumps his nose against Tony’s.

***

_Next Monday -Present Day- 2045_

Peter’s room is submerged in darkness, like usual. His legs still ache, but the sharp pain in his ribs has shown up again. He should tell Miss Williams once she comes for his three o’clock checkup. But he’ll have to wait throughout visitation hours, because he needs all the rest he can get. Recently, he’s been way more tired and worn down than usual. 

“Peter? Are you awake?”

The man sits up in his bed slowly, rubbing his eyes with his palms. The door to his room is cracked open, and Miss Williams has her head poked inside.

“Yeah,” Peter croaks. “M’awake.”

The lights to his room turn on and Miss Williams opens the door all the way.

“You have a visitor.”

Miss Williams enters his room, a pretty red-head following her and helping a frail old man into the room.

“ Tony? ” Peter whispers as Miss Williams closes the door. Tony smiles, the wrinkles on his face deepening. Peter’s mouth stays parted in awe as the redhead helps Tony over to the chair next to his bed. 

“Hi, pumpkin,” The old man says softly, taking Peter’s left hand in his own. His hands are warm and soft and thin, with callouses on every fingertip. “You’re so beautiful.”

Peter looks down at their intertwined hands bashfully. Tony raises Peter’s hand to his lips, and presses a kiss to his pale skin. 

“I can stomach your face,” Peter quips; Tony rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Just kidding. You’re a stud.”

They both erupt in a fit of giggles. Peter’s sides hurt, in a good way, for the first time in months.

“Hospice?” Tony asks once they catch their breath, his tone serious. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Miss Williams and the redhead’s conversation awkwardly falls flat. Peter traces one of the small scars on Tony’s left hand with the tip of his finger.

“I didn’t think it mattered,” Peter mumbles, continuing to avoid Tony’s heavy gaze. “It’s not like we’re going to be seeing each other for much longer.”

Tony flinches at the blow his words deliver. Ever so slightly, he squeezes Peter’s hand.

“I’m sorry,” Tony utters, his voice so quiet it’s barely audible. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Apologizing isn’t going to do much,” Peter chimes, a single tear threatening to slip from his eye. “Not unless you stay.”

“Oh you, there’s no use in crying,” Miss Williams cuts in, grabbing a box of tissues from the small cluster of cabinets in the corner of the room. Peter takes them, taking one tissue out and batting his eyes. “I think you two need to seriously talk. Miss Potts and I will leave you alone.”

Peter gives the two nurses a weak smile as they leave his room.

“I went through all the letters he’s ever written me. Steve-my husband- he really hated the technology,” Tony explains. “I just feel so terrible. I love you Peter, I do, but it’s a disservice to him.”

Peter sucks in a deep breath.

“You love me?” He asks, voice hoarse.

“I’d be crazy if I didn’t,” Tony laughs, stroking the knobby bone of Peter’s wrist. “I’d be so fucking bonkers.”

Peter rolls his big doe eyes, the tips of his eyelashes tickling his eyelids.

“I think you’re already crazy. I think that’s what makes you so charming.”

Tony shakes his head as Peter gives him a kiss on the cheek. 

“I think that’s why I’m so in love with you.

***

_That Saturday-1992_

The glass back door of Tony’s house slides open with a soft  ‘woosh’. The wind blowing from the ocean makes goosebumps appear on Peter’s arms, and he pulls his flannel closer to his body. In the distance, the flames of the campfire lick up at the night sky.

Oh, and Tony’s waving his arms like an idiot.

“Peter!” He shouts as loud as he can. “Over here!”

Peter laughs and shakes his head before taking off over the sand, letting the wind rush past him. It’s oddly exhilarating, but he comes to a stop once he reaches Tony and his little camp area.

“My baby,” Tony purrs, wrapping his arms around Peter’s torso and spinning him around. Peter shrieks happily and grips onto Tony’s neck for support. The older man puts him down and immediately presses his lips to Peter’s. Like the roaring fire, Tony’s touch warms him to the core.

“What’s all this?” Peter asks quietly, eyeing the plaid blanket lain on the sand, the wicker basket that holds a bottle of wine, and the bouquet of roses.

“Since we’ve never had a proper date,” Tony explains, brushing a stray curl out of Peter’s eyes. “I thought I’d treat you tonight.”

Tony pulls Peter to the blanket, and the brunette sits down happily. He pushes his bare toes into the sand as Tony sits down next to him. He hands Peter a wine glass and takes one for himself, pouring the red liquid in both.

“And before you ask,” Tony says as he raises his glass to his lips. “My pain meter’s all the way up.”

Peter scoffs and takes a sip of his wine. He’s never been a huge fan of wine, but this-it’s good. His eyes wander to Tony’s face, and he takes a second studying the curves of the man. The point of his nose, the line of his jaw, the pout of his lips.

“Tony?” Peter asks, breaking the silence. The man responds with a soft  ‘hm?’

“I died last night.”

Tony doesn’t respond; he just looks up at the stars. Then he turns his head to Peter, and smiles.

“I’m just glad you’re not in pain anymore.”

The tension, that Peter didn’t even realize was there, leaves his body. He rests his head on the older man’s shoulder, his cheek pressed to the softness of Tony’s sweatshirt.

“I’ve been looking for a nice place to live,” Peter rambles, his glass of wine forgotten. “They really have everything here.”

Peter slips two fingers in one of the rips on Tony’s jeans.

“Stay here,” Tony says softly. “This is practically your home now.”

The crashing of the waves echoes in his ears.

“It’s not home without you. It’ll never be home without you here with me.”

Under the moonlight, Tony smiles sadly.

***

_Three Months Later-1987_

It’s Wednesday when he finds him.

Peter’s browsing the shelves of Paige’s Bookstore, sipping on the rest of his leftover iced tea from lunch. The small shop has been one of Peter’s favorite places since he’s passed over. It’s in a quieter, smaller part of town, and it overlooks the sea perfectly.

Peter’s fingers stop on the spine of a copy of  _The Picture of Dorian Grey_ when the bell to the front door chimes softly. The brunette doesn’t pay any attention, and keeps browsing, until he hears the voice of the new customer.

“Good afternoon! Do you sell books here?”

Peter’s heart drops to his toes. He peers around one of the shelves to peek at the front door and-

It’s Tony.

“Tony!” Peter exclaims, failing to contain his excitement. Tony’s egotistical facade drops, and he stands there in awe. Peter, as carefully he can, rushes across the small room, and leaps into Tony’s arms. It feels so good to be back in his arms, encased by warmth and love. Tony presses kiss after kiss onto Peter’s cheeks.

Edith, the owner of the shop, coos at the two of them. 

Peter  _may_ have spilt his guts to the woman the first time he met her.

“You came,” The younger cries, bubbling with glee. “You actually took the tech.”

Tony laughs and cups both of Peter’s cheeks in his hands.

“I would’ve been a fool if I didn’t,” He mutters, kissing Peter once more.

“Okay lovebirds, if you’re not going to buy anything, get out of my shop.”

Edith has never been the nicest lady.

Peter giggles, though, and bids the woman goodbye as Tony pulls him out of the shop and into the sun. He takes his sunglasses out of his pocket and slips them onto the bridge of his nose.

“I love you,” Peter sings, leaning forward to kiss Tony, but landing on his cheek. “I love you, Tony Stark.”

_Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?_

_Ooh, heaven is a place on earth_

_They say in heaven, love comes first_

_We'll make heaven a place on earth_

_Ooh, heaven is a place on earth_

Wind in his hair, salt on his lips, and a smile on his face . Tony presses down on the gas, shouting as they fly down one of the backroads of the city. Peter throws his head back and laughs; his sunglasses almost escaping his grasp.

_When the night falls down_

_I wait for you and you come around_

_And the world's alive with the sound_

_Of kids on the street outside_

“I love you, Peter Parker!” Tony shouts over the wind, honking the horn twice.

_When you walk into the room_

_You pull me close and we start to move_

_And we're spinning with the stars above_

_And you lift me up in a wave of love_

Tony slows when he reaches a dead end, leaving them atop a small hill. He shuts the car off and sighs, reaching over to squeeze Peter’s thigh.

_Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?_

_Ooh, heaven is a place on earth_

_They say in heaven love comes first_

_We'll make heaven a place on earth_

_Ooh, heaven is a place on earth_

Leaving over the dashboard, Tony hungrily kisses Peter on the lips. As the sit there making out, under the sun, with the breeze from the ocean, Peter can only think:

They’re going to be just fine.

_The End._


End file.
